Unfamiliar Territory
by the.eye.does.not.SEE
Summary: "Six forty-two AM… And it's already a good day." This is a slightly alternate take on Beth and Rob's morning after.


**Title:** _Unfamiliar Territory_ (1/1)

**Author: **fais2688

**Pairing: **Rob Hawkins/Beth McIntyre

**Rating: **PG

**Summary:** _"Six forty-two AM… And it's already a good day."_ This is a slightly alternate take on Beth and Rob's morning after.

**Author's Note: **All right, this is my first try with Rob and Beth… *fingers crossed that it turned out okay* Go easy and please, please enjoy.

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Rob Hawkins knew exactly where he was the moment he woke up.

He thought he should be disoriented—that was what these morning afters were usually like the in movies, in TV—in real life, even, for he'd experienced that very phenomenon—but he wasn't disoriented this morning. He knew exactly what he'd done last night, who he'd done it with, and where he was now. He lifted his head slightly, turning it to look out across the bay windows on the far side of the room. The flimsy curtains that barely ever hid the world from the apartment's occupants (or the apartment's occupants from the world, he thought with a twinge of anxiety as he remembered their activities last night) had gotten tangled up, leaving the glass panes bare. He had a perfect view of the Park from here, and he propped himself up in bed as to look out the windows for a while. He wondered how anyone could ever tire of that view, though he supposed when it cost upwards of a couple million dollars, there were definitely arguments to the contrary.

He'd only been up to Richard McIntyre's apartment a couple of times, either to pop in for a minute or two while Beth grabbed something she'd forgotten, or for fancy dinner parties that made Rob feel uncomfortable both in his off-the-rack suit and with the size of his vocabulary, but each visit had been enough so that the place wasn't completely alien to him now.

It unfamiliar, definitely, but Rob couldn't help but think, looking out at that spectacular view of Central Park again that, maybe in time—_maybe_—he might get to know this apartment as well as his own.

"Is this weird for you?" Beth's voice pulled him out of his thoughts and commanded his attention immediately, even though she spoke in barely more than a whisper.

He swallowed, suddenly at a loss for words as he stared at her. God, she looked so beautiful in the morning. He'd spent more than his fair share (which should have been none) of sleepless, guilt-ridden hours imagining what she might look like the morning after a night like last night, but none of his imaginings could compare to this, to her lying next to him now. Her raven-black hair was tousled over her shoulder, unkempt and unbrushed, and her face was completely clear of makeup—two things so unnatural for the always put-together Elizabeth McIntyre—but she looked beautiful nonetheless.

Rob looked into her eyes, relieved to see nothing but concerned expectation in them. He knew if something was wrong, she would've said told him already. If she'd wanted him gone, she would've kicked him out already.

…Right?

"Rob?" she questioned again, her voice softer this time—but more worried—as she pushed herself up into a sitting position. He didn't miss the way she clutched the sheet to her chest, as if hiding her nakedness in the light of day would make him forget all he'd seen in the dead of night. "Is this…?" She trailed off, and he could see from the now scared look in her eyes that she couldn't finish the question.

"It's… not as weird as it probably should be," he confessed at once, not wanting to worry her any further and not even bothering to play at lying. When he closed his eyes to blink memories of their night together flickered behind his eyelids like an old black-and-white film. It had been so dark in the apartment last night, and they hadn't bother turning on the lights before finding the bed, so even though her hair was made up of layers of various shades and her skin really was quite tan, his memories consisted of nothing but the blackness of her hair and the whiteness of her skin. He could still feel her kisses and touches and hear her whispers and moans in his memory.

"What… What is that supposed to mean?" she asked, her hand clutching the sheet a little tighter in her fist. Though the initial fear was gone from her now, he could tell by the rigidness of her body and the nervousness practically written letter for letter across her face that she didn't feel like they were in the clear yet.

"It means that…" Rob ducked his head, gathering his thoughts as he sat up as well. He pretended to stare down at the sheets as he took a breath, but out of the corner of his eye, he was looking for her. His hand reached out and settled over hers before he continued. "I know this is supposed to be new and—and confusing but…" He shrugged, actually unable to hold back a smile as he admitted, "I don't feel confused." In his happiness, he lifted his head and met her eyes. "I feel like this has…" He broke off, rolling his lips together. He wasn't sure if this was the right time to say it. What if he scared her off before things even really had a chance to begin?

A voice inside his head broke through, telling him, _it's probably now or never, dude_. The left side of his mouth turned up; he imagined Hud's voice automatically. And he was right. He caught Beth's eye again before continuing, but he wasn't sure, as he began speaking where he'd left off, whether or not her eyes locking onto his made him more confident or less.

"I feel like this has—has been a long time coming between us," he admitted. He shrugged self-consciously, suddenly very aware of the fact that his views might not match her own, and so he added quietly, "Or at least, that's how I see it. How I've seen it. That's my take on all this."

He looked down then, not having anything else to say, and for a couple minutes they just sat there in silence. He could hear her shift next to him, feel the sheets twist around them, but he didn't look up. He was still trying to think of something else to say, another way to explain things, when she squeezed his hand and his head snapped up. So lost in thought, he'd practically forgotten they'd been touching.

Tentatively, he ran his thumb over the skin on the back of her hand. He felt something inside him warm and turn to liquid when she smiled at him and squeezed his hand tighter in response.

"That's my take on it, too," she told him, and he stared at her in awe, wondering if anyone had ever said six more perfect words.

"Yeah?" he wondered, suddenly feeling this like this—last night and this morning and these words that were coming out of her mouth now—were all too good too be true. How could he be sure that he wasn't going to close his eyes in a second and then wake up in his apartment the next, alone and without her?

She nodded, and her dark hair fell over the side of her shoulder as she did so. She didn't lift her hand from his to fix it. "Yeah," she confirmed, her quiet words buoying the smile hinting on her lips.

Rob couldn't help himself—his face broke into the biggest grin—and he turned his head towards the far windows to save himself and her the embarrassment.

She followed his movements like a magnet, however; when he turned to face the Park, so did she, and he could feel his heart thudding in his chest when she rested her head against his shoulder and pressed her half-naked half-sheet-covered body against his.

For what must've been an hour, they rested there, half-sitting and half-laying, watching the sun rise over the city together.

It was only when its bright rays began blinding them that they finally moved. She shifted her head, pressing her face fully against the curve of his shoulder to shield her eyes, and kissed his bicep. He moved his arm to wrap around her waist and bring her to him, and it was only after she'd snuggled up against him, her head resting against his chest, that he noticed just how natural the movement had felt, how natural it had been to pull her close to him.

His own words echoed in his head, followed by her affirmation.

_I feel like this has been a long time coming between us._

He spread his lips in a smile to hide his disbelieving laughter. One day—_not today_—he would ask her why she had ever shared his take on things. What did he have to offer her that she couldn't get from someone better? Richer? Nicer? What did he have that she wanted or needed or was even _interested_ in?

His mind swam in circles for a while, trapped within his own head, before she broke through again.

"What are you thinking about?" she wondered, looking up at him as she lay, resting her head in his lap, with a lazy, happy smile brightening her face.

He looked down at her, silent as he took her in—all her beauty, all her life, all her kindness and generosity—she was too much for him. Too good for him.

Again, he wondered if he was dreaming.

He pushed that thought away, however, and the ones that came before it—he would save his worries for another day, less perfect day—and, feeling the spring sunlight warm him through the bay window, he asked the first thing that came to mind: "Have you ever been to Coney Island?"

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**Author's Note:** Thank you SO much for reading if you gave this fic a chance! I am so very grateful. I really have fallen in love with these two and I'm so excited to explore them some more. Here's to hoping this was a passable first try!

Please leave a review and let me know what you thought of the piece below! I would really appreciate it. :)


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